


Glass

by penny



Category: Persona 3
Genre: F/F, New Game Plus Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-13
Updated: 2010-10-13
Packaged: 2017-10-15 03:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penny/pseuds/penny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The idea sticks in her mind. What if Chidori dressed her like one of her dolls? Would she brush her hair, too? Would she want Yukari to sit there, glassy-eyed and empty?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glass

**Author's Note:**

> New Game Plus fic for Temples. Request: _Yukari is the one to encounter Chidori instead of Junpei; the bond isn't quite friendship, and it's certainly not love, it's need. Chidori sees Yukari as a doll to play with, not a person._

She should be doing her summer homework. Yukari doesn't mean to let it slide. She doesn't mean to let anything slide -- not her studies, her archery, her plans with friends -- but she can't...when they defeat the shadows, everything will go back to normal, but it will be a new normal for her, a normal with the knowledge about her father. And she can't...

She can't stop thinking about it. But she can't talk to the others about it. So she's thankful that it's summer. If she spends enough time outside, the relentless press of heat and sun and humidity squeezes all thought from her, so by the time she staggers back to the dorm in the evening, she's empty and able to face everyone.

It's almost enough. It will have to be enough since she doesn't know what else to do.

"Get out of my way. I can't see."

Yukari startles. She'd seen the girl, but hadn't really seen her, not since...how many days had she been coming to Port Island Station? Four? Five? She remembers noticing the girl the first day, remembers thinking how odd, a gothic lolita in Iwatodai, and then continuing on, because she was almost empty.

The girl glances up at her, her dark eyes narrowing. "Move."

"Sorry." Yukari steps back, and the girl resumes her drawing.

Now that Yukari _seeing_ the girl, she can't help but notice how, well, how amazing she is. Kind of like Mitsuru-senpai. She has that same self-assured air, not composed and polite like Mitsuru-senpai, but commanding, and she's talented. Her dress is obviously handmade, the lacework detailed and intricate. It really is gorgeous. Yukari would feel too self-conscious in it. So much white! And so much lace! It makes her long red hair seem more vivid, almost violent in its brightness. Yukari can't stop staring, and she has the sudden urge to tug one of the white ribbons loose, watch her hair spill free.

The girl doesn't look up from her drawing, but she asks, "What do you want?"

"You made your dress, didn't you?"

"Yes." Then, "Why?"

"I just noticed." Yukari wants to sit down next to her, but it would be rude. _Standing_ here, staring, is rude, but...it's not a connection to the girl, really, but she feels grounded in the moment. It's a nice feeling.

The girl stops drawing. It's hard to tell -- her expression is so smooth -- but Yukari thinks she's frowning. She's trying to compose her apology as the girl tucks away her pencils and rises.

"It's pretty," Yukari says.

The girl doesn't look at her as she walks by, but she pauses for a moment like she might say something, then continues towards the station. Yukari takes a shaky breath -- the apology; she should force it out since it's lodged somewhere in the back of her throat -- but she's struck by the sudden thought that the girl smells similar to Mitsuru-senpai when they're in Tartarus, the underlying musk that might be Penthesilea or might be a reaction to something in the air during the Dark Hour.

That's silly, though. It's not the Dark Hour, and the girl is normal. Normal and now too far away for that apology. Yukari watches her until she rounds the corner into the station, her dress swirling around her ankles.

* * *

She keeps seeing the girl at Port Island Station. She's always sitting in the same place, always drawing, seemingly ignoring the people wandering around the station. But sometimes, Yukari thinks she can feel the girl watching her.

"You again."

Yukari stops. So she hadn't imagined that feeling of being watched. "Yes, and you again. What are you drawing?"

She considers Yukari for a moment, brows furrowed in either puzzlement or a frown. "Nothing. Why?"

Yukari shrugs. "You seem so focused on it. It's...nice." Enviable. She wishes she could find her focus again.

"It's no big deal." She looks back down and resumes her work. "I do it because I like it."

"Yeah. It's nice having something like that." Yukari licks her lips. She doesn't know why she's so off balance. It used to be easy to talk to people. "I'm Yukari."

The girl ignores her. Yukari blinks down at her, shrugs again, and starts walking again.

"Chidori," the girl says, and Yukari pauses and turns back. "That's my name." Her back is to Yukari, and she doesn't turn to look at her. "I'm almost done with the picture. I doubt you'll understand it, but if you want to see it, then you know where to find me."

"Okay." It's a little insulting Chidori thinks she won't understand the drawing, but maybe that's a common reaction to her art. So maybe she's not trying to be insulting. "Thanks."

* * *

The start of the second semester doesn't help. Yukari can concentrate in class, but only because she forces herself. She attends archery practice, but relies more on muscle memory than conscious thought. And when she doesn't have practice, she's outside taking advantage of the last of the summer heat.

She's not sure what she'll do once the weather turns cool.

Chidori is still coming to Port Island Station. Yukari doesn't think she likes Chidori -- she's rude, cold, and condescending -- but she can't stop herself from meeting her. It's like...well, when she's with Chidori, she can forget her father's role in the Dark Hour, all the secrets Mitsuru-senpai kept from them. It's almost like she's normal. It's nice.

"Yukari." Chidori scoots over so she can sit with her on the bench. Her sketchbook is open over her knees. Today's drawing is a wash of red and orange, swirling and dark, like an out of control fire.

That's how her mind feels. "I like that one." It's not entirely a lie -- the way Chidori's blended the colors is powerful -- so Yukari doesn't feel guilty saying it.

Chidori nods and takes a moment to add some yellow into the mix. "Hey, Yukari, what do you do to make yourself feel alive?"

She's gotten used to Chidori's odd questions. But this one takes her aback. "I..." She laughs. It's high and hysterical, and for a moment, she doesn't think she can make herself stop, but then, thankfully, she does. "I don't know anymore."

"Why not?"

"It's just one of those things." She can't tell Chidori about her father, the Dark Hour. "What do you do?"

The look Chidori gives her is almost coy. "Do you really want to know?"

"Sure."

"All right." She shuts her sketchbook. "Come on."

Yukari rises and follows. She's genuinely curious. It's been a long time since she's felt anything except confusion.

* * *

Chidori takes her to a small apartment on the outskirts of Port Island Station. Yukari hadn't been here since June, and she hopes her uneasiness doesn't show in the way she sticks close to Chidori, but she thinks it might, because when Chidori glances back, her lips are quirked up in a small smile, and there's something sly and complicated in her eyes.

The room is small and tidy, and there are dolls on every flat surface. Yukari can't even process all of them. They're all wearing handcrafted dresses, variations of Chidori's dress, the collars high, the cuffs spilling over the backs of their tiny hands. It's a little creepy the way all the dolls stare at them with their glass eyes.

"Wow." Yukari doesn't know what else to say.

Chidori picks up one of the china dolls from her desk. It has sandy blonde hair, almost the same color as Yukari's, and emerald green eyes that slide shut as its head tilts back. "I like to dress them." She hands the doll to Yukari.

"And sew their clothes, I see." The dress is every bit as detailed as Chidori's, more impressive, Yukari thinks, because the smaller size requires greater precision.

"Yes. Would you like me to dress you?"

"Me?" Yukari almost drops the doll. "Why?"

Chidori shrugs. "I think it would be nice."

Yukari shakes her head.

"All right. If you change your mind, you know where to find me."

* * *

The idea sticks in her mind. What if Chidori dressed her like one of her dolls? Would she brush her hair, too? Would she want Yukari to sit there, glassy-eyed and empty?

It's a tempting thought. Once couldn't hurt, right? The worst that could happen is that she'd be uncomfortable and not want to do it again, right?

She returns to Port Island Station. "All right," she says, not waiting for Chidori to acknowledge her.

"You changed your mind?" Chidori shuts her sketchbook.

"Yeah. I think you're right. It would be nice."

And that's how she finds herself standing naked in Chidori's room, shivering slightly even though the place is stuffy and hot despite the drawn shades.

Chidori hums as she lays out the clothes. First the dress, then the lace bra and panties, and finally an assortment of white ribbons.

"Can I put those on?" Yukari lifts her chin and glances at the underwear.

"Dolls can't do that," Chidori says. "Remember?"

"Yeah." Yukari swallows. Her skin feels flushed. "It's just --"

"My dolls can't talk, either." Chidori smiles. "I won't hurt you, Yukari."

"I know."

"Then I'll start."

It's a good thing Chidori's dolls can't talk. Yukari's throat is dry. She's not sure she can manage words. She nods, and then she takes a deep breath and...relaxes. She's a doll. She can't move unless Chidori moves her. She can't speak, can't do anything, because dolls are passive things.

Chidori's touch is firm but also gentle. She's careful with her dolls, and Yukari thinks Chidori's probably dressed some other girl like this, because she knows how to move Yukari so she doesn't feel like she's lifting her feet or arms under her own power.

It seems like it takes a long time for Chidori to dress her. The bra and panties are scratchy, store-bought instead of handmade. They're the right size. Yukari wonders how Chidori knew, and then she lets the thought float away because dolls don't think.

The dress is amazingly soft and cool. Yukari holds in her whimper as Chidori begins fastening the buttons, her fingers gliding up Yukari's back. Her touch is light, and Yukari can't decide if it tickles or not.

Not. Chidori's dolls aren't ticklish.

Chidori turns her so she's facing the mirror. The dress doesn't suit her. The collar is too high, and all the lace makes her look young, like a kid.

Chidori moves in front of her and ties a ribbon around her neck. Yukari swallows. It's tighter than the choker she usually wears, and she feels...oddly thrilled by it. She wants to return Chidori's smile, but can't, not while she's Chidori's doll.

"You're a pretty doll." Chidori reaches up and runs her fingers through Yukari's hair. "I'm going to brush your hair now." Chidori moves back behind her, and then out of view in the mirror to fetch the brush.

Yukari can't remember the last time someone's brushed her hair. Her mother, she supposes, when she was little. Chidori's careful, her strokes even and measured, and the light prick of the bristles on her scalp is oddly relaxing. It's not long before Yukari falls into a trance of sorts. She stops seeing herself in the mirror, stops seeing Chidori standing behind her, and really does feel like a doll, blank and motionless and empty.

And then -- she loses track of time, so she can't say when -- Chidori stops and twines ribbons in Yukari's hair. "There." She sounds satisfied, and that makes Yukari feel a faint flare of happiness, though it quickly fades away because she's a doll, and dolls don't feel.

There's another space of time when Chidori just touches her. Yukari doesn't pay too close attention, but eventually she realizes she's sitting on Chidori's lap on the floor, and Chidori's humming some sort of lullaby and stroking her hair, and it's quite relaxing. She probably dozes.

It ends. It has to. She has to go back to the dorms, and Chidori needs to...well she needs to do whatever it is she does.

"There." Chidori tugs the ribbon around Yukari's throat loose. "I'll help you out of the dress, but you have to get yourself back in your Yukari clothes."

That probably means she's still a doll. Yukari blinks to acknowledge Chidori, doesn't resist as Chidori pushes her to her feet. There's still a bit of light squeezing in through the edges of the drapes, though it's angled low, so it's close to sunset. She'll have to hurry back to the dorm.

"I...liked that," she says once Chidori's gotten her out of the dress. It's a better way to forget everything than walking until the heat exhausts her.

"If you want to do it again, you know where to find me." Chidori turns to hang up the dress.

She still doesn't _like_ Chidori, but she'll go back to Port Island Station.


End file.
